Reckless (The Powerless Trilogy, #2)

by Lauren Roberts

“Would you like me to run, Your Highness?” I manage, keeping my eyes on the shifting sand beneath my feet. “I’d like to see you try. It would be entertaining, to say the least.” I throw him a glance. “I live to amuse, Your Highness.”

Then his brow is furrowed, his mind captured by the task at hand. With swift fingers, he’s tracing the jagged cut, threading skin and tissue together. I sigh, relief flooding me with every pass of his fingertips. He looks up at me then, eyes wandering over my face in a way that makes me feel stripped bare before him. “Better?” His voice is barely more than a murmur. “Better,” I breathe.

I mimic his shrug with one of my own. “You seem to be taking a lot of precautions for a mere Ordinary.” “I think we both know that nothing about you is mere.”

& dont you forget it

“You’re afraid of me.” He meets my statement with a stare, steady but drawn out like a sigh. “I’d be a fool not to fear something so fierce.” I swallow. “And are you not? A fool, that is?” He stands then, holding my gaze until he’s the one looking down on me. “Not anymore.”

yeah ok

It’s a struggle not to mourn how easy getting close to him used to be, and how desperately I crave something not completely complicated.

Now he offers a glance over his shoulder. “Let’s see it, then. Get on.” I swallow, a reaction that I wish was dramatized. He extends a hand to help me up, his mouth kicking up at the corner. “Absolutely not.” I try to take a step back, straining against the rope. “I’m going to need… assistance.” Now he really does smile. “You mean, you need help?”

A noise of disgust slips between my lips, a groan sounding of regret. “Fine. I need… your help.” I bite out the words, swallowing the bitter taste they leave behind. He smiles at me then, startling in a way it shouldn’t be—not anymore. In response, he easily slips from his saddle to stand before me. My heart hammers in my chest, eyes flicking to the weapon at his side. I hold out my bound hands expectantly, smiling sweetly at him.

“Plagues!” I squeal, thrashing in his hold like I intended to. Every limb is flailing, desperate to flee from his grip out of what I hope looks like fear. My back is pressed against his chest while feet fly in front of me and hands reach behind to grasp at anything—his face, his arms, his hip as I slip the dagger from its sheath.

she so smart love her down

“I think,” I say quietly, “I’d be more comfortable in the back.” “Oh, I’m sure,” he murmurs, so close to my ear, I suppress a shiver. “But I want you where I can see you.”

“What is he like?” I say softly. “My king?” “He’s like you left him.” His voice is dull. “A shell of a man, stepping into the shoes of a king.” I sigh, looking up at the stars above. “Then I’m as good as dead.”

Her breathing is melodic. Hypnotizing in a way I hate admitting. She’s pressed so close, so slumped against my chest that I can feel her rib cage expanding with each breath. I doubt she’s slept so soundly in days.

I pull my horse to a halt, hesitating before resting heavy hands atop her thighs. I allow myself one moment. One selfish moment of my miserable existence committed to her. To a girl in the arms of a boy. To a facade.

“I’d like to knock your teeth in.” “Oh, but then I wouldn’t be able to smile in that way I know you like.” Scowling, she states, “Smile all you want. I don’t like anything about you.” My rebuttal is quiet, ragged, as though it’s been ripped from the depths of my mind. “I recall you liking the one that was meant only for you.”

ok cause clock it

“Where am I sleeping?” she asks, eying the many bedrolls now littering the sand. “Beside me.” Her eyes fly to mine. “Absolutely not.” “Why?” I ask innocently. “It’s not anything we haven’t done before.” “And it’s not anything I plan on ever doing again,” she challenges. “And why is that, Gray?” I sigh. “Worried you’ll like it too much?”

I let my eyes wander over her, wander over the tan skin, the fingers fidgeting with the ring on her thumb, the silver hair mirroring the moon above. Everything about her is so very familiar, so very deceiving. No power runs through the veins beneath that tan skin. No abilities guided by those fidgeting fingers. No Elite likeness in the silver strands of her hair. And yet, she feels anything but Ordinary. I’ve been taught my whole life that the likes of her would be the ruin of Elites, but I’ve never felt anything stronger.

Someone. She’s thinking of Kitt. She’s probably always thought of Kitt as that someone who could change Ilya for her. Someone with potential to be persuaded into seeing things differently.

oh dont start

Even dead he’s controlling Kitt, ruling Ilya from the grave.

“Good to finally hear how you really feel,” I say with a scoff. “Well, there’s no point in hiding it now. Treason is the least of my worries at the moment.”

She doesn’t bother rolling over to mock me to my face. “And I thought chivalry was dead.” When the Imperial throws me a blanket, I don’t hesitate before tossing it over her head. “Oh, it is, darling.”

love that nickname

And then I’m shaking my head, wrapping an arm around her legs, and pulling them against me.

She looks at me, shocked. And then she smiles, bright and big like the night sky hanging above us. I fear she could rival the stars.

had to di my lor dancey dance

An arrow sinks into the sand beside my head. I hear it land before I’ve even opened my eyes.

oh shitsomeone tryna get yall

Something cool and sharp meets the skin of my neck. The feeling is all too familiar. And so is her voice. “One more move, and I won’t hesitate again.”

paedyn whattt gts

“Hello, Finn.” I laugh, wrapping my arms around him and the bow now resting across his back. “I knew you were here before I even saw you.” I turn to look at them all. “I knew I was safe.” “Oh, really?” Finn raises an eyebrow at me, his brown hair glinting auburn in the dying firelight. “The arrows.” I gesture to the dozen littering the camp and its former occupants. “Those are the Resistance’s arrows. The ones you make with the red arrowheads.” Finn smirks at my knowledge of his handiwork. “And I knew that you were the one firing them, because you always carve an F at the bottom of the shaft.”

“Paedyn, the Resistance… the Resistance is done. It’s over.”

i figured as much

“Come on, don’t say that,” Lenny says softly. “Don’t live to die. Die because you lived.” A pause. “Or something like that. Listen, you’ve earned every breath. So enjoy it.”

you sound like me when im trying to help someones mental state

“I can imagine it’s hard to keep you out of trouble with that hair of yours.” “You have no idea,” I say, smiling slightly.

She rolls her eyes. “Sympathy doesn’t look good on you, Azer.” “Everything looks good on me, Gray.” I flash her a smile. “Don’t lie.”

he rlly does it for me

Paedyn hesitates before sliding in beside me. She always does. She’s only ever timid when I’m close enough to touch her.

I can just make out the faint freckles that dot her nose, though I pretend to forget the exact number of them there.

She’s unbearable, really. But not in the way that makes it any easier to look away. No, everything about her is a bold sort of beauty, like a rose proudly displaying its thorns. She’s alluring in the way that most deadly things are. It’s captivating. No. No, it’s terrifying. It’s supposed to be terrifying, still thinking of her as something I’m trying to deserve. Still deeming her worthy of my desire.

My hands are still tied behind my back. Only now, they are also tied to hers. Her head is slumped against the back of mine, hands twitching beside my own. She shifts slightly, the only warning that she’s stirring awake.

why in the hell are they tied together

When her breath hitches on what sounds to be the beginning of a sob, I know something is very wrong. “Paedyn,” I say softly. The taste of her name is intoxicating on my tongue. “Paedyn, are you listening to me?” “When am I ever,” she pants, “listening to you?” I smile to myself. “Are your knees against your chest?” “What?” she huffs. “Yes. Yes, my knees are against my chest.” “All right,” I say slowly. “I want you to listen to me for once in your life and put your legs on the floor. Spread them out as much as you can.” “Why would I—” “Listening, remember?”

wall. “Feel how much room you have? This cell is plenty big enough, and it’s not going to get any smaller.” I swallow before lacing her fingers with mine, feeling her breath hitch at the sudden contact. But then her breathing is slowing against my back, her hand clutching mine like an anchor from her racing thoughts. “Better?” I ask, breathless. I feel her nod. “Better.” Silence stretches between us. She rests her head on my shoulder. Every bit of my being is focused on the way her fingers feel between mine. It’s absurd.

“Your clumsy footwork will be the death of us, you know.” A frustrated sound tears from my throat. “Well, you’re not exactly the most encouraging person to be tied up with.” “Under different circumstances,” he pants, “I promise you I’m much more fun tied up.”

freak ass

I frown. “What about my hair, then?” “I don’t know, Silver Savior,” he says slowly, “you tell me.” “I think it could pass for gray,” I argue. He laughs. It’s deep and dark in a way I’ve come to recognize. “Your hair could pass for moonbeams before it passes for gray.” “Careful,” I say slowly, “that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“What could I have possibly missed?” I huff, lifting my head to scan the cell again. “That stone over there,” he says casually, as though he doesn’t sound insane. I try to bite my tongue for as long as possible. I really do. But before I can stop myself, I’m blurting, “I’m sorry, do you mean the stone on the other side of the cell that I can’t see?” He’s quiet for a moment. “That’s the one.” “That’s completely unfair.”

Nodding, I sluggishly pull him back to the center of the cell and slide to the ground. “And then we’ll get out of here.” “And then we’ll get out of here,” he repeats softly. My head finds the back of his shoulder, slumping against him despite my best efforts. My body aches, every inch of my betraying being begging to curl up against him, to be held by him. At my weakest, I wish for him. And at my strongest, I wish I could say it wasn’t the same. He rests his head on mine, gentle and grounding. I hate that he feels like that. Feels like comfort incarnate.

“Can we pretend that it’s okay not to hate each other in these moments?” I ask quietly, if only to ease my conscience. He sounds as though he might have laughed if he wasn’t so exhausted. “Yes. Pretend.” I’m quiet until I’m not. “Do you regret any of it?” His voice is soft, soothing. “Regret what?” “Us?” A pause. “Regret what happened between us? Even the more recent things?” I whisper, recalling our moment of weakness on the rooftop. He’s quiet for so long that I doze off, only waking when he murmurs, “Sleep, Little Psychic. Regret in the morning.”

“That’s enough.” His voice is calm, so damn calm that I want to slap him across the face I can’t even see. I ignore him, as per usual, and continue to pound against the wall. A tear slips down my cheek, mingling with the water splashing across my face. “I said, that’s enough.” He grabs me around my waist, yanking me away from the wall. I fight against him, feeling like a feral animal as I thrash in the water. “Paedyn!” My name echoes off the walls, stilling me for a moment. Then his face is beside mine, his cheek wet and cold against my own. “That’s enough.”

“Paedyn…” The water seems to still for his soft voice. “No,” I say sternly. “Don’t do that. Don’t go saying my name because you think it might be the last time you ever will.” He has the nerve to chuckle. “Your name seems like a good word to die with on my lips.” “Kai—” “I don’t regret it.” His words are a rush, a confession he’s clung to. “I don’t regret you, or what was between us. And I don’t regret kissing you on that roof. But I know I’ll regret what I have to do to you for the rest of my life.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks, voice urgent. His hands roam up my neck to feel my face, fingers trembling over my cheekbones. “I…” My hands find his arms, cupping his wrists. “I regret not doing it right. And I regret not being what I’m supposed to be.” He strokes a thumb across my wet cheek. “I’m sorry you have to be anything at all.” I know it’s all talk of a dead man. All confessions of two people suddenly aware of their imminent doom. But I melt at his words, mourn what could have been. And now I’ll drown in the regret that is him.

My heart aches. Aches to be reunited with the piece he’s stolen from me. My nose brushes his. “Pretend,” I whisper against his lips. I am recklessness incarnate. Until the very end. My mouth meets his. He tastes like longing. Like regret and relief. Like nothing matters but this moment. It’s fervent, like a sinner’s final prayer. And maybe that is what this kiss is. Repentance.

She tastes like a piece of the heaven I won’t be going to. Kissing her is relief. It’s a delicate sort of demand. She pulls away, panting words between each kiss. “I hate you.” “I know,” I murmur into her mouth. Her palms push at my chest, pulling her lips away from mine to whisper again, “I hate you.” I run my hand slowly up her side. “Prove it to me, Gray,” I murmur against her ear. “Hate me enough to use me.”

I look away, ready to pull back and— A hand finds my face, turning it back toward her to press my lips against hers. Her mouth is crushed against mine, and it’s her I’ll breathe in for the last time. My hands are cupping her face, fingers twining in her wet hair. I kiss her frantically, memorizing the feel of her lips against mine. It feels like finality, this kiss. This moment. I kiss her harder at the thought, willingly breathing her in until the very end.

Her arms slide from my wrists to wrap around my neck. She’s clinging to me as though I’m an anchor she’s willing to sink with. I’m drowning with her, in her. It’s only when the water reaches her lips that she pulls away. “Kai,” she whispers, “I never learned how to swim.” “You’re okay,” I murmur, pushing tangled hair from her face. “I’ve got you.” I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her against me.

broooo i love them down

“Wrap your legs around me,” I order softly, staying calm for her sake. I feel her nod before her legs are hugging my waist, freeing my hands to help keep our heads above the water.

“Are you scared?” she whispers, her lips close to my ear. “I’m brave enough to admit that I’m terrified,” I say quietly. It’s a struggle to hold the both of us, though I won’t need to do it for much longer. I only wish I could see her face, could count the freckles splattering her nose one last time. I wish I could drown in those ocean eyes before the water gets the chance.

I’m running out of air, and I know she is too. Her movements grow more sluggish with each second. I will not let her die like this. I cannot.

Then I turn, finding Paedyn slowly sinking toward the bottom of the tunnel. Her eyes have drifted closed, her lips stained an eerie blue. I swim downward, grabbing her by the waist and pushing off the floor to shoot us toward the light. Then I’m shoving her upward until her head peeks through the grate. I vaguely hear her muffled gasp, her choking coughs. Through blurry vision, I watch her pull herself up and over the grate. She made it. She’s breathing. She’s alive. I don’t know that I’ll be able to say the same for me.

oh yeah he love that girl